It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(13)

If he’d nearly been able to take everything from her then, what would he take now if she were stupid enough to let him?

“Jesus,” he said in wonder against her lips, “even in my wildest memories, I never remembered anything this hot.”

Though his shirt was still in her hands and her body was urging her to yank him closer, she suddenly realized that if she didn’t put every wall back up, and make every last effort at resistance, then Ford might have the power to actually break her this time, rather than just bruise her.

Gathering up every possible ounce of determination she possessed, she pushed him away, hard enough that her fingers had no choice but to break free of their hold on him. Her move was so sudden that one of his hands tangled in her hair and left her scalp stinging as they finally came all the way apart.

She couldn’t do this, had known better than to step up to his carelessly thrown-out dare. No one but Ford had ever made her want like this, so effortlessly, so deeply, so passionately...so foolishly.

All these years she’d told herself that she would never be stupid enough to be susceptible to him again. But now she knew with one hundred percent certainty that it wouldn’t matter how many years passed.

She’d still be held in his thrall.

Both of them were breathing hard, and the way his chest rose against the thin fabric of his short-sleeved cotton shirt outlined his well-developed muscles against the fabric in a horribly distracting way. Denying their physical connection would just prove her to be an even bigger fool, so she didn’t bother to try.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “It was hot.” She made sure to pause a beat so that he wouldn’t miss her next words. “But you still mean nothing to me.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” He looked arrogant and beautiful as he told her, flat-out, “You’ve never been able to forget me any more than I’ve been able to forget you.”

“Stop it.” She backed up, but her path was blocked by a thick shrub before she could get any farther from him and the words she knew he intended to use in exactly the same way he’d used his kiss. Not to seduce, but to demand. “Don’t you dare look at me like that, like that kiss was special, like it mattered to you. Not when we both know it didn’t.”

For the first time since she’d seen him standing in the tower, anger flared in his eyes. “How the hell can you say that to me after that kiss? How can you act like you aren’t special to me, or that you don’t matter—when no one has ever mattered as much as you do? If I thought you’d listen to reason, if I thought you’d listen to my apologies, I would have started with those, but you’re so damned stubborn that I had to lead with the kiss just to get you to admit you feel anything at all.”

Hating the way her lips still tingled, how good the taste of him was even now, and worse, how desperately she suddenly wanted to hear his apologies, she gave up any final attempt at composure.

“You didn’t try to contact me for five years!” She was flat-out yelling now, but didn’t care anymore what he thought of her. “And then when you did, you tricked me with a call from a lawyer so I wouldn’t know it was you lying in wait for me in the tower. You are just as much of an egocentric jerk as you always were, because, clearly, it’s still all about what you want, and no one else’s life—or wishes—matter. So don’t you dare stand here and try to convince me I’m special or that you’re finally ready to give me some apologies that are going to make everything all better. We were good in bed together. That’s all there is, or ever was, between us. But do you know what the worst part of it is? I was almost stupid enough let you buy your way back into my life.

She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out the check she hadn’t yet taken to the bank and ripped it in half. The two pieces of paper fluttered to the ground as she said, “Five years ago, you were the one who told me goodbye. Now, I’m saying it to you.” Head held high, she turned and walked away.

Chapter Six

The last thing Ford had time for right now was a house-hunting trip to Seattle. His touring crew and management team were in Los Angeles preparing for his Sunday night show at The Staples Center. He’d had half a dozen major interviews scheduled for today, but when his lawyer had confirmed that Mia was available, he’d had his PR team reschedule everything. Despite his fame, he’d never been a particularly high-maintenance client, so they’d been happy to take care of it because they figured something important must have come up. Tonight and Saturday were going to be pretty rough without any breathing room between the extra interviews they’d had to cram in.

As he boarded his private plane to head down to Southern California, his brain, his body—hell, every last part of him—was wrapped up in Mia. Yes, she’d been angry with him for showing up unexpectedly. And there was no question at all that she was still furious about the way things had ended between them.

But even bigger than her anger and fury had been the intensity and the heat of the sparks between them. Whether they were talking or kissing—sweet Lord, that kiss had completely blown his mind—their connection was undeniable. He’d prayed that the kiss would melt the walls of ice around her heart enough for her to listen to him. Instead, it was what had finally made her snap...and tell him to get out of her life forever.

And, damn it, she’d been right. He had acted like an egotistical ass by setting up the anonymous showing. Somehow he needed to figure out how to convince her to spend more time with him so that he could make her see that he had changed…and so that he could actually get things right this time.